Fear
by LittleWing
Summary: Some rescue he thought wryly, trying to get his eyes to focus on something else in the room other than the knife ghosting tip first around his eyes....


Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural...but here's to dreaming.

A/N: This wouldn't leave me alone, so I thought that finishing it would get the stinking little bunny off my mind...this is a"missing" scene from the Beners eppi. What can I say I liked Missy, she was just creepy. BTW, I'm not fond of the ending...but do let me know what you think.

TTFN

Little Wing

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Swallowing hard against his fear and current state of helplessness Dean Winchester stared hard at the light glinting lightly off the blade of the small throwing knife that was being held a little too closely to his eye for his comfort. _Some rescue_ he thought wryly, trying to get his eyes to focus on something else in the room other than the knife ghosting- tip first- around his eyes and the evil dagger wielding Mowgli. "So, Missy…" he started, discomfort evident in his voice.

"I like your eyes," she said- ignoring his attempt to start a conversation- moving closer to him. Removing the small- but sharp- blade away from Dean's eye, Missy leaned in closer. "They're such a pretty green." Her fetid breath was hot against his cheek as she spoke.

Closing his eyes to her scrutinizing stare, Dean prayed that somehow he'd get her to let him go.

"So, Missy," he started again, attempting to lean as far away from the unhinged teen as he could, "you like dolls?" He could feel her shift away from him slightly.

"I had a doll once," she said after minute long seconds.

"If you let me go, I'll buy you a new one." He opened his eyes to gauge her reaction to his offer.

For a long moment she stood before him and stared at him; her dirty unkempt hair hanging in thick knots about her head. A chill ran down Dean's spine as he stared back into her dull greenish eyes. There was nothing there. Nothing worth saving anyway. She was just as big a monster as her father and her brothers.

Then she smiled and Dean wished that he were at the mercy of some demon- at least then he'd be able to plan a way out. But he wasn't. And there was Missy Bender grinning at him as though she'd just told the most fabulous joke that he didn't get, her rotted yellow teeth glinting dully in what light there was in the room.

"What you don't want a new doll?" he asked, pulling on the rope binding his hands harder- praying that they'd come loose.

Once again she was upon him; her knife held up close his eye for a second time. "They don't always let me this close." Wrapping her thin fingers in what hair she could, Missy yanked his head back; eliciting a sharp gasp from her hostage. He hadn't expected her to be so strong. "You won't need them both to be hunted." And cool metal came rest against the tender skin just to the inside of his nose.

"Missy," Dean hissed as the girl tightened her grip on the shorter hair of the back of his head.

"They won't mind," she cooed, putting slightly more pressure on the tip of the knife, "much."

"Wa….Wa…Wait," Dean stammered quickly at the force the scrawny girl was suddenly putting behind the blade at his eye.

"Why?" she drawled, easing off the tip of the knife blade slightly.

Her putrid breath still hot on his face, Dean carefully ran his tongue over his too dry lips try as his brain raced to find a reason why she should leave his pretty little eye in his head.

Smiling, she huffed softly once again applying steady pressure to the blade tip.

"Won't they get mad at you?" he asked, screwing his eyes shut and praying to whatever might be out there listening that she would just back off.

"Your brother had nice eyes too," she ignored Dean's attempt to scare her, "maybe they'll let me have them when they're done."

"You twisted little bitch!" She yanked harder on his hair, pulling the blade lightly along the tender skin just under his eye.

And as quickly as she wrapped her dirty little fingers through his hair, pulling his head harshly back, she was gone.

Letting out a soft sigh, Dean willed his eyes to open- hoping that the she devil had gone. She wasn't gone. For a long moment she just stood there; her dirty blondish hair obscuring her face slightly as her head cocked to the side. She was listening for something. _Please leave, please leave, please leave…_ Dean chanted in his mind as he watched her tuck the throwing blade somewhere up her sleeve.

Slowly her small frame moved further away from him and closer to the shot gun that'd been left leaning against a chair. Her steady hands reached out and snatched the heavy weapon from its resting place. With expert ease she brought the gun up to rest against her shoulder, finger poised on the trigger as her thumb carefully brought the hammer back. Her steps where slow and cautious as she moved from the room, leaving Dean alone.

With renewed fervor Dean began to work on the thick ropes holding his arms painfully behind his back. _I'm so sorry, Sam._ He thought feeling the rope begin to burn his already chafed wrists.

A near shrill shriek filled the foul air of the house and Dean stopped working the ropes to listen. He wasn't sure where the scream had come from, but it had been close. A low grunt and a loud thud soon accompanied another screech. And then nothing.

Hissing at the burning pain in shoulder, Dean renewed his efforts to free his too tightly bound hands.

Thick footsteps filled the house and Dean tensed. There was something wrong. Missy had been the one who screamed. Her brothers and father were taking way to long to murder two people. Erasing the look of fear that he was sure had been covering his face, Dean stopped his movements and stared hard at the door to the living room.

"Is this what you call a rescue?" Sam tossed the shot gun into the chair across from his older brother.

"You're alive!" He didn't try to hide the joy and shock in his voice. "Kathleen?"

"Watching over the psycho Walton's in the barn." He moved behind Dean and began working on the ropes, noting the burn the ropes had left.

"And Ellymae?" Dean hissed as blood once again flowed into his hands. Giving them a firm shake, he leaned down and untied his feet.

"Locked her in a closet."

Smirking Dean looked up at his younger brother….

The night air suddenly filled with the sound of rifle fire. Moving quickly they ran from the house each saying a prayer that Kathleen had not just been overpowered and killed.

They both relaxed slightly as they watched the wary deputy almost stumble her way from the barn.

The End.


End file.
